


A Consulting Pirate

by Drakey



Series: One Shot Sherlock [2]
Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Deductive Reasoning, Piracy, sherlock wants to be a pirate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-24
Updated: 2014-01-24
Packaged: 2018-01-09 20:46:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1150627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drakey/pseuds/Drakey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It will probably take more than one shot to stop the <i>Irene</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Consulting Pirate

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LapOtter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LapOtter/gifts).



It is a well-known fact that a small target moving with any degree of speed across the water is difficult to hit with a cannonball. It is also a well-known fact that a sailing ship, no matter how clever her captain, cannot hope to overcome, on her own, nineteen ships of the line. It was, therefore, no surprise to Captain Bradstreet that the _Irene_ had begun to shed deserters like a dog sheds its hair.

Oh, Holmes had been clever enough to lead the unprecedented strike force chasing him into the path of a gale. And certainly, riding ahead of the storm was a bold move, but he had miscalculated. They never would have followed him if they couldn't also escape the worst of the blow, and they most certainly could. Even if they couldn't, conditions were such that they would be able to resume the chase right afterwards. He should never have come out of his safe, secure little cove, though, grudgingly, Captain Bradstreet supposed the sight of more than half the English Navy would panic any man.

"Another deserter, sir," Langdale, the cabin-boy, said from Bradstreet's side. "His boat's coming up on our port side."

"Describe the man, Langdale, honestly," Bradstreet growled.

"Old, sir," the boy said. "Looks a bit of a beaten sailor, sir, and sir, he's not able to walk without a crutch. Sir."

Bradstreet shrugged. "Probably tossed the poor bastard out to save weight." He peered through his spyglass and snarled delightedly. "Really running now, aren't you? Take the old man aboard, Langdale."

The captain continued to glare at the fleeing pirate. Really, what was the use in fleeing? Holmes knew, of course, that he would get no quarter. He had humiliated far too many ships of the Navy. Another man might say that the sensible move was to strike his sails and heave to, but this was the infamous and embarrasing "One-Shot Sherlock". A surrender would be a bloodbath as much as a straight fight. Holmes wanted to go out fighting, and grudgingly, of course, Captain Bradstreet could respect that.

"Ye can' pu' me down there wi' them ruffians!"

Captain Bradstreet turned to see the old man Langdale had described waving his crutch about, generally causing a scene. He strode to the bowed, weatherbeaten man, and, with his hand resting on the hilt of his pistol, he addressed the other man.

"You are a member of Holmes' crew, are you not?"

The old man glared at him and nodded. "Ye can' leave me inna hold wi' th' sort o' riff an' rabble ye get offa th' high seas! 'M an ol' man, I am, an' me leg's bad, innit, an' I'll no' las' ten 'eartbeats in there!"

"You're a member of Holmes' crew. How do you survive there?"

"'E runs a tigh' ship, doesn' 'e?" The old man leaned on the crutch abruptly as the _Frederick William_ made a particularly sharp lean to starboard. His pained grimace elicited a certain combination of sympathy and Proper English Conduct. Captain Bradstreet sighed.

"I imagine you were a fine navigator, then?"

The man nodded. "I've seen 'nough maps' an' charts t' know when 's time t' take a new 'eading. 'M bloody useful an' Holmes doesn' le' 'is men have goes a' me, bu' 'e's no' long fer this worl'."

"True enough," Captain Bradstreet said. "Understand, sir, that if you cause trouble, I shall be obligated to shoot you dead."

The old man nodded vigorously. 

"Then you may stand here on deck--far from the wheel, mind you!--and watch the pursuit," Captain Bradstreet said. "In deference to your age, and only that, you understand."

Another nod, and the old man hobbled up near Captain Bradstreet. After a few minutes, the old man tossed his crutch, gently, at the back of a young man who was adjusting the sails. The boy gave a sudden cry of startlement, and the line in his hands slipped and flew loose. 

The _Frederick William_ slewed sickeningly to port, and as Captain Bradstreet turned to shoot the man dead, he found the smiling face of Sherlock Holmes, though only for a moment as the pirate connected with a solid right hook.

Holmes ran, hopped down into the water, and was gone before Captain Bradstreet could stop him.

+----+

John Watson shook his head as nineteen ships of the line went from chasing line of imminent death to jumbled mess. Of course, the _Irene_ had plenty of time to pick up her captain, though the maneuver left her sailing madly to outrun the storm.

Sherlock Holmes was shivering and cold when they pulled him from the boat he'd secured, by a long line, to the side of the lead ship. As Watson watched, the first winds of the gale finished the job Sherlock had started, ripping the already-damaged sail from the ropes securing it.

"There we are, Watson," Sherlock said. "Half the English navy against my poor stick. Hardly do they know what's happened." He looked around the deck. "And the _Irene_ has not fallen to pieces without me. You astound me with your competence! But that is a given, from time to time. Even a dull captain can be counted upon simply to move with all speed and turn about at a signal. How did command find you?"

"Quite well enough, I suppose," Watson replied as the ragged edges of the storm passed by behind the fleeing pirate.

+----+

"Look at this, Watson," Sherlock Holmes said over breakfast some months later. He pressed an envelope to the table in front of his first mate.

Watson picked up the envelope and started slightly at the seal on it. An official correspondence from the Crown to a pirate? He opened it and chuckled. "It seems you've impressed them, Holmes."

Sherlock smiled. "I can spot a nervous deckhand from a far greater distance than I did. Lucky, I suppose, that we spotted the _Frederick William_ in the distance first, but we must leave some things up to chance or it's not really sporting, is it?"

"But to become privateers?" Watson said, mildly appalled at the notion of tying his fate to any one nation.

Sherlock shook his head. "We shall only take what interests me. If a target is difficult, truly difficult, it will fall. We shall not be common privateers! Any fool with a cannon and a dinghy can blast away at another fool similarly equipped until one of them loses all his cargo. On the whole, I think we shall be more like... consulting pirates."

"Consulting pirates?" Watson said.

Homes smiled one of his rare smiles. "Naturally. there are consulting physicians, and consulting lawyers, and my beastly, law-abiding brother is even a consulting detective, but I shall leave such ordinary pursuits to lesser men. I shall be the world's first--and only!--consulting pirate."

**Author's Note:**

> I figured out how he did it!
> 
> A gently-thrown stick!
> 
> The entire British Navy wasn't quite feasible, though.


End file.
